


drop dead, he says this feels so liberating

by moreissuesthanv0gue



Series: allow yourself to become a gorgeous mess {{ or the one where they meet in incredibly fucked up situations }} [9]
Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Alternate Universe - College/University, First Kiss, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, M/M, Mickey Uses His Words, Sad Ian, Starbucks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-22
Updated: 2015-04-10
Packaged: 2018-03-19 01:08:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,514
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3590610
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/moreissuesthanv0gue/pseuds/moreissuesthanv0gue
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“I work at Starbucks and you come in so often that I know your daily order and write encouraging notes on your cup” au</p><p>{{ or the one where Ian is constantly hurt and Mickey just won't have that }}</p><p>title from Take My Love And Run by Bad Suns</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. don't you dare look back, keep your eyes on me

“I’m used to it” was a phrase Ian used so much that he wore it out, the words slipping out of his mouth almost automatically, accompanied with a sad smile and a small shrug. It was a phrase he used when people at school would notice the delicate bruising around his neck and ask questions, or when Liam, his youngest brother, would gently use his tiny finger to wipe away Ian’s tears. Despite everything, Ian was exceptionally smart, choosing to work hard in hopes that one day, it would pay off. So it was there, standing alone in the empty airport, plane ticket (paid in full by UCLA) in hand, that _‘yeah, he’s pretty sure he’s made it out of the south side.’_

 _“Jesus”_ Mickey thought, as he begrudgingly put on his apron. “Since when has education been so fucking _expensive_? Am I being taught by the king of France or some shit?” he mumbled to no one in particular, waiting for his shift to begin. He rolled his eyes upon hearing the bells ringing, a sign that someone had entered the coffee shop. Looking up, Mickey felt his breath hitch.

He had been expecting new customers, what with the start of a new school year, not to mention the university being right around the corner. However, he wasn’t expecting to fall madly in love with a tall, muscular ginger boy with bruises scattered all over his body and remnants of tears in his eyes.

Mickey shot the boy an encouraging smile as he felt a pang of sympathy for him. The ginger boy couldn’t be any older than 18. “Hi, what can I get ya?” The boy looked up and smiled through his tears, which Mickey thought was pretty fucking strong of him. “Can I have an iced vanilla latte with an extra shot of espresso?” he asked quietly, hands shaking so violently that he couldn’t even swipe his master card. “Here, I got it. Can I get your name?” Mickey asked in a soothing tone, gently plucking the card out of the ginger boy’s big hands. “Um…yeah, I’m Ian. I’m so sorry.”

As the month progressed, Mickey began seeing the boy more and more often. Every time he saw the familiar head of flaming red hair enter the shop, he couldn’t help but smile. Mickey had made a habit of leaving notes of encouragement on the boy’s cup, just small things like _“you have a gorgeous smile :)”_ or _“you’re lovely”_.

Then, one day, Ian walks in a little too tensely, shaking a little too much. It’s only him in the shop, so instead of just handing him his coffee, he takes Ian’s hand in his own. “Are you alright? What hurts?” and now Ian’s whimpering, clearly trying to hold back tears. Mickey cannot have that, so he lets go of Ian while he closes down the shop and pulls down all the blinds. He then hoists Ian up onto the counter, before sitting down next to him.

“Whats this all about?” Mickey asks, barely louder than a whisper. “I’m always _hurting_ ” Ian says, voice breaking as a sob wracks his body. He’s not done yet, so Mickey simply wraps an arm around Ian’s shoulder, holding him close. “I was so happy, y’know? I’d finally gotten away from my dad, who’s just been awful. I’ve got bruises and scars and shit because of him. I hate him, he never loved me, he was horrible. So I came here for a fresh start, y’know? A clean slate. But even here, I'm sad. It’s awful. Maybe sadness is all I’m good for.” Ian finishes off in a whisper, shaking harder than ever. Mickey feels the sting of tears in his own eyes. “Who’s hurting you now?” he asks, a question Ian was hoping to avoid. “Myself. I am. It was just once. One cut. And now…people found out…and all they want to do is rub it in my face” Ian can’t even talk anymore because he’s sobbing so hard. Mickey’s heart breaks in two.

“You know what, Ian? You’re going to go and have a great life, despite all these fucking assholes trying to get in your way. You’re going to have an amazing life. The best, babe. And I would be honoured to be a part of it. Will you let me help you? I would never hurt you.” And Ian’s smiling, even though he’s still got tears streaming down his face, whispering _yes, yes, I would love that._


	2. it's time the kid got free

    So slowly, and ever so cautiously, Ian let Mickey in. Secretly, Ian thought that Mickey was the most beautiful human being on the planet, although not only due to his amazing good looks- with his perfectly crafted quiff of brown hair to his alluring blue eyes, he was a typical all american boy. But to Ian, he was a lot more than that. Ian thought that Mickey looked the most breathtakingly gorgeous when he did things out of the kindness in his heart he so desperately tried to hide under his hard exterior. It was when he took on extra shifts without pay, or when he punched a man trying to snake his hand up a young girls skirt, that he was most beautiful. 

   Ian quickly rounded the corner and opened the door of the practically on-campus coffee house, breathing in the aroma of coffee beans, his eyes searching for Mickey's. "Hey! How were your classes?" Came a voice from behind him, a smile evident from the way he spoke. Ian spun around, smiling shyly. "They were -" And Ian finds himself taking a deep breath, finally allowing himself to stop and just _think_  for a second. Mickey's eyes start to cloud over, as he discreetly grabs Ian's hand, pulling him over to a corner. "What's up? You can tell me anything, you know." Ian smiles. "I know. And I'm grateful...for...this. Like, for everything. Going to school here is a dream, and meeting you was the best thing ever, but -" Ian's cut off. "It's not what you expected?" Ian smiles. Mickey knows him so well, it's uncanny, and quite frankly, a little creepy. "Um, yeah. Yeah, I guess that's it. I thought that once I was out of Chicago...they'd be gone. All of my problems. But that...that was obviously wishful thinking, a little dumb, now that I think about it. Problems will for sure follow me everywhere I go. Maybe a different set of problems, but problems nonetheless. That's what life really is all about. Problem solving. But um, that's for me to deal with, you don't need to worry. Thanks though, for, like, listening to me." 

   Mickey smiles up at Ian. "No, stop. Your problems are important to me. But I'm glad that you can differentiate between reality and wishful thinking. Proud of you." Ian smiles back, a little tentative. "Are you closing soon? Can I stay here?" Mickey's eyes dart to his watch. "Uh, yeah, I'll be closing in like 15 minutes. If you wanna stick around 'till then, I'll be back in like half an hour with dinner?" 

   He said half an hour, but Mickey's back within 20 minutes. Handing Ian a sandwich, he sets his bag on the ground beside him as he plops himself into a chair. "Did you not have classes today?" Ian asks as he unwraps his sandwich. "Nah, I dropped out of that one." Mickey's barely got the sentence out before Ian groans, the hint of a smile on his face. " " _Mickey!_ You're going to be a barista forever!" He exclaims, consequently getting a tomato slice thrown at him. "I wanna be a marine biologist! How the fuck does that have to do with _Women's Studies?_ I'm _literally_ gay too, so it's practically useless." Mickey complains, rolling his eyes. "Speaking of that...um...have you ever, like, liked someone that you think you shouldn't? Like, you like them but you're not sure if they like you to." Mickey feels his heart beat quicken and he so badly wants to say _"yea, about you"._ Instead, he says "yeah, all the time", ever so calmly. Ian shifts around in his seat. "So...um, what do you think the person would say, if I, like, told him that I wanted to move past the 'just friends' stage?" Mickey's lungs almost collapse, because he's pretty sure that Ian's talking about _him._ "I think he'd be flattered, I think he probably feels the same way about you." Mickey watches as Ian gets even more fidgety. He scoots his chair closer as his voice drops to a whisper. "W-well...what do you think he'd do...if...if I kissed him?" Mickey, locks his eyes with Ian's his throat locked in fear and anticipation and adrenaline. "I think...I think he'd kiss you back".

   Ian doesn't move, just sitting frozen, eyes flickering between Mickey's lips and his eyes. With a half smile and an eye roll, Mickey places a hand on the back of Ian's neck. "C'mere, you goof. You're adorable." And with that, they're smiling into each others mouths, hesitantly, yet confidently at the same time. Pulling back, Mickey looks at Ian, who's cheeks have gone as red as his hair. "Was that...was that good with you?" Ian peers at Mickey through his lashes. "Honestly? I thought it was perfect. If that's what love feels like...I'd like to feel it some more. And I'd like it to be with you, if that's alright."

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey guys! This was originally just a one shot for my series, but I got a couple of comments asking me to make it into a chaptered fic, so here's chapter ⅔! ilsym, keep shining bbs


	3. shut up and put your money where your mouth is

it’s been a couple of years, and everything’s changed - yet at the same time, nothing’s changed at all. Ian accepted his diploma in English Literature, so proud about that, whereas Mickey recently opened up his own coffee shop, becoming a hotspot for ironic hipsters and construction workers, all while becoming a licensed diver (the closest thing he could now get to his original dreams of becoming a marine biologist). Everything was fucking _great_ , and for the first time in a while, Ian was happy and Mickey was in love.

 _“Why_ are they constantly giving you the shittiest articles to write, man? Like, the history of the _doorknob?_ Really?” Mickey inquired as he walked into the apartment that he and Ian now shared, with 2 coffees in hand, passing one over to Ian, who chuckled before sighing. “I’m the newbie, Mick. I’ll take what I can get. Besides, the pay is fantastic, and you know it.” Now it was Mickey’s turn to sigh. “Shit, I know, we’ll be millionaires in no time. Just don’t like seeing you being stepped all over. Y’know, metaphorically.” Ian snorted, pulling Mickey onto the couch. “Please, I’m not being walked on. Besides, the history of a doorknob is actually interesting, in the geekiest way possible. Did you know that there are about 114 million doorways in the US?” “You’re so fucking weird”.

After that night, something changed. Ian was still sweet as ever, making Mickey breakfast and handing him every single one of his paycheques, but something was off, no matter how much he tried to deny it. However, Mickey never pushed Ian. He never forced anything out of him. So he waited and trusted Ian’s judgement, even if it killed him. And one night, when they were curled up on the couch, Ian in Mickey’s lap watching god knows what, he spoke up. “Babe, you know I hate to push, but something is wrong.” Mickey said, gently prompting Ian. The redhead shivered a bit, before speaking up. “I…I was going to tell you. I’m sorry. But, um….remember when I told you about my dad?” Mickey nodded in acknowledgement, holding onto Ian just a little bit tighter. “He…he eventually got sent to jail, for some drug stint. And he’s requested to see me.”

Mickey’s first reaction was “No. No way, tell him that he can rot in hell.” Ian shifted uncomfortably, before speaking up. “But…but I’d like to go see him. Just to…just to see how he’s doing. He…he really wants to see me. He asked to be transferred to a jail here in California, just so I could see him.” Mickey’s eyes bugged out of his head. “Ok, that’s borderline creepy. But if you really want to see him, I’ll come with you.”

So that’s how Ian and Mickey wound up in the waiting room of the Twin Towers Correctional Facility. Noticing how Ian was shaking, Mickey laid a hand on his arm. “Hey. It’s not too late to leave.” Ian smiled at him. “Thanks, but this is something that I’ve got to do.” “You’re so strong, Ian. I’m so proud of you.”

Being led down the halls of the jail by a staff member, felt like hours, until finally, they reached inmate #295, Frank Gallagher. Mickey walked in first, fully prepared to fight, fists and all, if it wasn’t for Ian’s gentle hand on his back. “Hello, son.” he says, with that creepy pedophilic look unique to inmates. Ian goes white with fear, stuttering. “H-hi. What do you want from me?” He’s trembling, being only a couple feet away from the man who’s hurt him. Mickey shoots Ian a sympathetic look, before locking eyes with Frank, who puts his hands up in a gesture of surrender. “I don’t want anything from _you_. I just wanted to tell you that I’m going to be better, Ian. I’m on meds for schizophrenia, and I promise I will be a better father - for you and for those kids at home. Will…will you forgive me?” Ian’s so shocked, that he’s quiet until Mickey gently pinchs him on the inside of his wrist. “Frank…thank you. I appreciate that you’re trying. But I can’t forgive you. I want to, but I can’t. You really hurt me, and I can’t forgive you. I’m so sorry. I really do hope that Debbie and Carl and Liam are going to get the dad that Fiona, Lip, and I never got. But I can’t forgive you.” Ian finishes so quietly that even Mickey, who’s right beside him, needs to strain in order to hear him. Frank tries to hide his disappointment. “I understand. I’m sorry for everything.” Ian smiles. “Thanks”, and with a final nod, Ian and Mickey are gone.

The tears come soon after that. Mickey quickly pulls Ian into the car, before hopping into the passenger seat, lifting Ian onto his lap. “I know, I know, this isn’t fair” he says, already knowing what Ian’s thinking. “But think, you’ve practically guaranteed a better future for your siblings. And I love you, so much.” Ian sniffles, “I…I couldn’t forgive him. I wanted to, but I couldn’t. What’s wrong with me?” Mickey’s grip on Ian tightens. “Nothing. I don’t blame you for that. He hurt you for 18 years, babe. Of course you couldn’t forgive him. That’s karma.” Ian smiles a little at that, before thoughtfully adding, “It feels nice knowing that I can put all that behind me now. Let’s go _home._

And so they did. And Ian was genuinely, consistently, happy. Life was finally good.


End file.
